


The Sum of All His Parts

by JoJo



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-25 00:25:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4939636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoJo/pseuds/JoJo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Should Chris be allowed to forget, or allowed to remember?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sum of All His Parts

**Author's Note:**

> to the prompt - "Buck - some days he was jealous of Ezra's clothes" 
> 
> And general apologies that such a fun prompt went downhill so fast...

Nathan did this most intolerable of jobs without a pause.

Clothes to help people who needed them, he kept telling himself. Good quality clothing doing nobody any good hanging up here in this old closet for the moths to feed on. Needing to be removed and bundled up into bags, taken away out of this house forever. The others had all been more than happy for Nathan to volunteer to do it because, he thought grimly, perhaps they regarded him as the least sentimental. And he’d already dealt with all the stuff that had been covered in blood. He brushed his fingers against one particular item. 

Just the feel of it made his jaw tighten and he shut his eyes for a moment. He could hear the faint clatter of hammer against fence-post from across the yard outside. 

“Leave him something.”

The voice, unexpected, made him jump.

“I’m sorry?”

Buck had come in from outside, perhaps for a drink. He was standing right by Nathan’s shoulder all of a sudden, looking into the yawning closet.  
“I said leave him something. Just one thing.”

“Well I don’t know,” Nathan said, temper shortened by the whole gut-churning business which he just wanted to get over and done with. “Whole idea is to get it all outa Chris’s sight. So he don’t need to be thinking on those memories.”

“The red coat,” Buck said firmly.

Nathan turned back to it, let his fingertips ghost along the cuff once more. He shook his head. “Naw, Buck. Think it’s gonna help him comin’ back here and finding just that, as if Ezra’s done gone and risen from the dead, hung himself up in the closet? Chris said it should all go, to those that might need it, so that’s what’s going to happen.”

“I’ll take it then,” Buck said, stubborn. “Give it to me.”

Nathan frowned. Something about this didn’t seem right. Seemed like it would be twisting the knife, drawing out the pain even more. There was something particular about this jacket. J.D. had even wondered, quiet and private, if Chris might have wanted Ezra buried in it but none of them had the guts to suggest it.

Buck inserted himself next to Nathan in front of the closet. He reached out and brushed down the sleeves of the garment, just like Nathan had done. Slid a hand inside to feel the fine lining, pull the coat straight where it hung, make sure the lie was right. Re-sat the collar even though it was just fine as it was. “I know what you’re thinkin’,” he said, voice unsteady. “And you’re right. There were times when I was kinda jealous... would’ve liked a closet of fine things like his, thought I could do pretty well myself if I had such fancy, tailored duds to put on in the morning... especially this.” Buck shook his head crossly, one hand still against the claret-colored threads. “But I ain’t takin’ it to wear.”

“Well what the heck are you going to do with it then?”

Buck slipped the garment off the hanger, laid it over one arm carefully. Brushed the surface of it again with the palm of his hand.

“I don’t know! Not just give it away, that’s for damn sure. Keep it. This isn’t just a piece of cloth, Nathan, this is... “ Buck stopped in mid-flow, like his voice had been stolen.

Nathan’s head dropped. “It’s him.” He felt the ache of tension between his shoulders, the stab of remembered grief in his gut. “This coat is him.” He took a breath, a sudden fearful thought catching in his throat as he looked up at Buck again. “And what if Chris was to see you with it? What do you think that would do to him? He don’t want it, badly don’t want any of it – knows it’ll hurt too much to stand.”

“Maybe.” Buck ranged his eyes over the contents of the rest of the closet, then pulled them away. “But maybe he just ain’t thinkin’ about what’s here and what it means. Because he can’t.”

“It means warmth for someone who’s got next to nothing.” Nathan was sharp even though he didn’t mean to be, not about this.

“That’s as may be. But you got all that other stuff you can take – god damn it, Nathan, this one’s special and I’m keepin’ it.”

Buck wasn’t about to be dissuaded although Nathan was full of misgiving. None of them were quite sure what kind of Chris Vin was bringing back to them after all these weeks away, but he didn’t think he’d be strong enough to cope with even seeing this jacket, never mind if he accidentally got to actually feel it, even smell it... A barely perceptible tang of some stuff Ezra used to slather on himself hung about the garment. So faint that Nathan reckoned it might be his imagination. But if he thought he’d caught that echo, then for Chris it would be...

“Long as you think you know what you’re doing,” he said, voice gruff with warning. “And you c’n get it outa my sight, too. Don’t want to see it no more.” 

Buck hesitated at the tone. “You all right doin’ this? Need any help?”

“I said didn’t I? Said I’d do it.”

Nathan dragged his eyes back into the closet. Never mind the red jacket, every single piece of clothing in here was Ezra. All the shirts, the array of vests and ties, the green coat, the plum-colored one... 

“Josiah said he’d take it all over to Vista City,” Buck said, tentative. “Says he knows some nuns there’ll make good use of it.”

“I know.” Nathan was short. He began taking the things off their hangers one by one, laying them on the table to the side. The inner drawers of the closet were full of items too, scarves and garters and underthings. He didn’t know what earthly use any of that would be to the nuns or the folk they looked out for, but maybe Josiah was thinking of selling them or something, then making a donation. A sigh rumbled through him. Buck was still standing there.

“Go on, Buck,” Nathan said, softer now. “Go and put it away in your saddle-bag, take it back to town. Maybe there’ll be a right time to bring it out.”

He couldn’t think there would be. Couldn’t think there’d be anything but heartache all round. Even though it was only a piece of cloth, a bunch of stitching and buttons... heck, Ezra probably cheated someone to get the money for it in the first place anyhow. 

As Buck walked out with it over his arm, one hand laying gently on top, it didn’t look so much. Different to when Ezra had it on. It had been something then. He had been something.

Nathan clenched his jaw again, hard. He’d be the one to pile all this stuff up, pack it into the tea chest waiting under the table. The one to nail the chest shut, as if it was another coffin. To shut the closet doors for the last time, not thinking for one second how empty it was.

The others were damned right he wasn’t sentimental.

He dashed a hand over his eyes.

Tucked a polka-dot tie deep into his pocket.

And went to find Josiah to tell him it was time to go.

**Author's Note:**

> And make sure to go read the sequel Randi wrote [HERE](http://mag7daybook.dreamwidth.org/341797.html?thread=3835173#cmt3835173)


End file.
